


Good

by aWishUponPolaris



Series: Ever [3]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Lazy Mornings, Original Fiction, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-16
Updated: 2018-10-16
Packaged: 2019-08-03 03:15:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16318073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aWishUponPolaris/pseuds/aWishUponPolaris
Summary: Sometimes, the best morning isn't particularly glorious, or even noteworthy, but the kind of morning you could get very, very used to.Rated T for lewd suggestion and one instance of a swear word?





	Good

I give a small groan as I open my eyes, bleary vision meeting a cream ceiling. I feel the soft linen sheets crumpled both above and beneath me, and blink away the drowsiness as the feeling of warmth at my side - a warmth as familiar now as my own heartbeat.

I wear a lazy smile and turn inwards into the embrace. “Good morning, Brae.”

I see his still-sleeping face grimace at the unwanted movement.

I laugh softly. “Braedyn,” I gently lilt, stretching each syllable as I draw in closer to his face. His face scrunches up in a way I’ve seen so often before, but never grow tired of; I repeat his name in much the same way.

“Five more minutes,” he groans and turns away - this is a mistake, he quickly realizes, as he is struck with the full force of the morning sun. He gives a second groan, louder, before turning back to me. “It’s too early for your shit, Sun,” he mutters, pouting. 

I grin at his antics before placing my head in the crook of his neck, canoodling him like a goose, all the while softly laughing. He grunts and moves uselessly to stop me

“Not ‘ou, too, Tay! You and Sun are conspiring ‘gainst ma restful sleep, ‘ou are,” he murmurs petulantly. His accent is so much thicker when he’s tired. 

I shift myself under the covers, bringing together warmth. I see him smile for the first time this morning. I find, as I do every morning, that I like it even more than pouting.

“ _ Good _ morning, Braedyn,” I repeat, intoning the first word in a distinctive syrupy connotation. I see his face flush and his eyes finally crack open, squinting in the morning light.

“You are no fair, Taylor, I hope ‘ou know that.” I do, of course. I give him my best grin as I lean closer to him, placing my lips practically against his ear.

“Braedyn,  _ surely _ we have better things to be doing than sleeping,” I whisper, feeling him grow warmer under me. “We could do many things... “

“Taylor,” he whined, brushing against me.

“I was thinking…” I run my tongue along the edge of his ear, “pancakes.”

He freezes. “...  _ Pancakes _ ?” he asks in a tight voice.

I giggle and continue, “Oh? Were you in the mood for waffles?”

I hear him growl beneath me, and in a second, we are flipped over, my form pinned under his. I smirk up at him.

“ _ I think _ I have a better idea than that,” he says, voice husky, though sadly his accent vanishes as he awakens. “Something way more fun.”

I feel his heat move against mine, our new position giving no real barrier between us. “How about the both of us,” he moves in closer, his arms snaking under me as he props himself up by his elbows before he flips us onto our sides, holding me in much the same way as a teddy bear, “go the fuck back to sleep?”

I blink, not entirely understanding what just happened.  _ He just… beat me at my own game! _

Despite my cry of indignation, growing weaker with each paired beating of our hearts, I know that in this moment I feel warmer -  _ safer _ \- than in any other.


End file.
